Strike Back Fanfiction Novels & Stories

I gasped— But Olivine dipped low at the last possible second. The strike missed by the breadth of a hair. His counterattack came in the same breath: a brutal, bone-snapping blow to the ribs. The crack reverberated through the forest, and the stranger staggered, wheezing in pain.

He’s dropped the strike a long way without warning, leaving a singing line of heat just below the curve of my ass, where the lace stops and the bare skin starts. The plug, at this new setting, drags through my body in time with the impact. I’m loud. I’m very loud. I don’t care. The other people in the room may as well have been abducted by aliens for all that I’m aware of them. There’s only the cross, and Kir's flogger, and the plug, and the sweat starting to bead at the back of my neck under my hair, and nothing else. Strikes come in patterns now that I can’t track.

“Face forward, Nightingale, and brace yourself. Make sure your hands remain on the desk. You chose this option, remember that, and I already warned you that I wouldn’t go easy on you. If you make it to strike number twelve without giving up, I will reward you for being a good girl.” As soon as I faced forward, he struck me on my left thigh, just underneath my ass. I yelped in shock, firstly because I wasn’t expecting him to start so quickly, and secondly because I wasn’t expecting the strikes to hit so low. The pain had been overshadowed by my initial shock, but as soon as that shock passed, I could feel the burn. And this was just strike one. I was more prepared for the second strike, but i

"Hold onto me with one hand and just stab out blindly with the other; the one holding that iron blade." "Yes, I know which hand to stab with," I growled. "Just making sure." Tiernan launched us into the sinister sky, and I tightened my hold on his shoulders. Terrible sounds filled the air around us as we fell like Icarus; hitting bodies as we went. Things squished, cracked, and thudded against me as roars and growls filled my ears, but when I stabbed out with my weapon, the sounds turned into cries of agony. I felt the warm spray of blood across my face and kept stabbing. Over and over, I pushed that little piece of metal out into the dark and met solid resistance. Over and over I stabbed th

I whispered in her ear. “You're sick, let me go.” “Four strikes. You're such a feisty little Gattina.” “Get off me, you freak.” “6 strikes.” “How did it get to six? Wasn't it 4 just now?” “Oh, so you are following. This is your first punishment, so I won't be so rough.” I took off my Rolex watch and tossed it on the bed. My hand caressed her back gently before tugging on her shorts and pulling them down in one go.

“That earns you one extra stroke for moving without permission.” “Sir—” “Count them out loud. Starting now.” The first strike of the crop lands with a sharp *thwack* across the fullest part of my right cheek. Bright fire blooms instantly. “One!” I gasp. The second follows fast on the left. “Two!” By the fifth, my voice is trembling. My ass burns hot, but the ache between my legs has only intensified. I’m dripping down my thighs. Damien pauses after the eighth, rubbing his palm over the heated skin, spreading the sting deliciously.

The man gripped her hair and fucked her face hard, his balls slapping against her chin with every thrust. I tried to push past them, my heart racing and my thighs slick. Then I saw the worst of it. A tall, curvy stripper was pinned against the wall completely naked. A muscular man had one of her legs hooked over his arm as he fucked her hard and fast. His thick cock slammed into her pussy with brutal strokes. Her tits bounced wildly with every thrust. She moaned loudly, her back arching as he pounded her without mercy. The wet slapping sounds of his cock destroying her cunt echoed down the hallway.

Jenny smiled victoriously when she heard what my father said. She took a stack of thick documents and showed it to the camera. "Everyone, you're doing amazingly! I have lost a few ads collaboration due to my disfigurement as well! I even lost a chance to be on a television program. The losses I incurred are at least 10 million! Eve will have to pay me back!" Right at that moment, a group of people barged in through the door. "Jenny, we're here to support you!" Those people were Jenny's die-hard fans. They looked furious, as if they wanted to come and beat me up.

The contrast was so stark, so damning, it was like a knife through the air. Nick's expression shifted repeatedly. Panic consumed him. He scrambled to his feet, pointing at me with wild, shaking hands in one last frenzy of denial. "It's her! She forced me! She's a control freak! She's always using her family's power to control every part of my life! I've had enough!" He roared like a madman, spittle flying. "I love Maisie! But she wouldn't let me go! She threatened me with self-harm and suicide! She set this up! This is her trap! She wants to destroy me and Maisie!"

We acted. Every strike was survival. Every breath, a small rebellion against the death they expected. One caught my thigh—deep. I cried out, the sound ripped from my lungs. Blood soaked into the fabric of my pants, hot and slick. I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. I drove my knife into a rogue’s side and shoved him back with a roar. Another clawed my ribs. I turned and punched, teeth bared. The third staggered. And then he spoke. “I know who you are, Lila.” he hissed, spitting blood. “You were supposed to be Elena.”